in0 (11 page)

“Then we will be in touch dear lady. Thank you for your assistance.”

#

Mikhail Vasloff let his features fall into a frown as the view of Salli Rheinhardt faded from the screen.

What he had learned was interesting, but not very satisfactory. What had begun as a favor to a rich contributor had taken on all the aspects of a major mystery. Mark Rykand had been right about one thing.
Magellan
had come home early - eight months early to be precise. Moreover, that had only been the first of a long list of odd goings-on.

The Stellar Survey had an operating procedure for ships returning from exploring alien star systems. They would dock at High Station, which orbited more than 100,000 kilometers over the equator. The station was so high, in fact, that it appeared to orbit retrograde in the sky. Once there, the returning ship was placed in routine quarantine until everyone was sure that it had not brought back any parasites or diseases. Following the end of quarantine, the scientific community was invariably invited to attend a conference at survey headquarters where the ship’s discoveries were announced, and bids taken on research projects.

Magellan
had done none of those things to date, despite having returned more than a month previous.

The ship had materialized out beyond Jupiter, and then made its approach normally until, at the last, it had assumed a polar parking orbit rather than an equatorial one. Polar orbit was much beloved by survey satellites and those with a need periodically to scan the entire surface of the Earth, but by no others. The truth was that it was damned costly to get to. Moreover, PoleStar was in an exaggerated elliptical orbit that made it even more expensive a place to reach from the equatorial orbits.

Yet, despite the expense and difficulty associated with the change-of-plane maneuver required to reach PoleStar, someone had set up a regular shuttle service to do just that. Vasloff had found that to be curious when he had first learned of it. After all, it was cheaper to reach polar orbit from the Earth’s surface than it was from equatorial orbit, so why would any cost-conscious company set up a ferry service from orbit?

Then there were the scientists who seemed to be traveling to Equatorial Station and then vanishing into the vacuum of space. At first, it had seemed sufficiently mysterious to have the makings of a good technothriller. Vasloff’s computer had searched out their ticket records and verified their debarkation aboard Equatorial Station, yet could find no other destination. They had not seemed to embark for Luna, the outer planets, or any other of the usual destinations. In fact, it had been his investigation into the missing scientists that had first alerted him to the shuttle service to PoleStar.

Apparently, PoleStar was the site of a secret research project that was classified at the highest levels of the Stellar Survey. In addition to Rheinhardt, they had identified ten people, all top men and women in their field, who had been assigned to the task. It had been a stroke of luck when a computer check had revealed Salli Rheinhardt to be a member of one of
Terra Nostra
’s affiliated groups.

Vasloff sat and pondered what Salli had told him. He had read a history book once that asserted the Germans might have uncovered the Manhattan Project if only they had noticed the number of physicists who were booked on trains from Princeton, New Jersey to Alamogordo, New Mexico. He wondered if Benjamin Rheinhardt were not his Edward Teller in that respect.

“Well, Claris, what did you think?”

Claris Beaufort, Vasloff’s second in command, was an intense blonde woman in her early thirties. Her expression matched Vasloff’s, except on her, the frown was permanent. “We have confirmed our suspicions.”

“But what do we really know?”

Claris shrugged. “They have found something important enough that they do not dare use the resources of High Station.”

“Why?”

“Security. It is too hard to keep a secret there.”

He nodded. “Even more important, they are staffing the project from Earth. That tells me that they want to keep the very existence of the project secret, not merely its subject. That means they have powerful backing, possibly even the World Coordinator. They are using too many resources for this to be solely a survey operation. So what could they have possibly found that is this important?”

“This mysterious Earthlike planet our people at survey headquarters have reported?”

“Possibly,” Vasloff said, nodding. Despite his lecture concerning the impossibility of other terrestrial worlds to Mark Rykand the previous month, he was not as convinced as he liked people to believe. “If ever anyone truly discovered a twin to Earth, it would be a major blow to the global economy. Think of the speculation that would break out, the jockeying for position, the out-and-out greed. What else might it be?”

“Those people who died. Maybe they contracted some deadly plague.”

“Possible,” he mused. “That would explain the secrecy. If word got out that they have found an alien bug that lives on human beings, they would be doing our job for us. We could get a recall order passed in Parliament in a minute. All the ships would be broken up and sold for scrap within a year. I would see to it.”

“As would we all, Mikhail. What do we tell Rykand?”

Vasloff frowned. That was a minor ethical dilemma. He had taken that rich young man’s money on the clear understanding that he would be told everything that
Terra Nostra
found out about his sister’s death.

Yet, what they had discovered was too important to share with someone whose only motive was revenge rooted in personal grief. Whatever was going on out there might prove
Terra Nostra
’s best hope (or worse nightmare). He considered it a moment, felt his conscience tug at him, and then shook it off.

“We tell him as little as possible. Call him and report that we have confirmed that
Magellan
returned early and that there is a hint around headquarters of a world marginally less uninhabitable than our current colonies. As for his sister’s death, tell him the truth. We have learned nothing.”

#

Raoul Bendagar sat alone in the conference center and gazed at the holoscreen on the far bulkhead. The screen allowed PoleStar’s scientists to hold secure teleconferences with their colleagues on the ground, and was used to display computer data and the results of experiments. When not used for those purposes, it was switched to whichever hull camera offered the best view of Earth.

The Earth was a sphere the size of a medicine ball, surrounded by the blackness of space. Centered on the orb was the polar ice cap, with the northernmost reaches of Asia, Europe, and North America surrounding it.

Without the familiar outlines as a guide, it was easy to imagine that this was New Eden as it had been just before the gravity wave announced the arrival of two alien ships. Perhaps Sar-Say’s planet looked something like this, or the Broan home world. How many other planets were there in the galaxy that could pass for the twin of Earth? The answer, it seemed, was far more than even he had thought. Based on humanity’s rather small sample - Earth and New Eden - approximately one system in fifty must harbor a terrestrial world. That meant the Broan domain was spread among some fifty million suns. A sizable number, but still only a small fraction of the galaxy’s one hundred billion stars.

His contemplation was suddenly ended by the chime that announced the arrival that he had been waiting for. He checked to see that the recording circuits were operating, and then told his visitor to enter.

“Good morning, Sar-Say,” he said as the alien pulled himself to the restraint frame opposite Bendagar. “I trust that you slept well.”

“Very well, Profess ... or. How your night?”

“I hardly slept at all. Your revelation of the Broa yesterday has us all in an uproar.”

“Uproar?”

“Upset, agitated. Dieter Pavel had me up half the night composing a report to his bosses on Earth, and after that, I lay in my cabin and thought about the implications. They are very frightening.”

“Why?” the Taff asked.

Bendagar smiled. He had noted yesterday that the alien could relate the most horrific vision of the universe possible without any outward sign of emotion. In his lights, he was merely explaining the way things were. It was as though a modern had tried to discuss the population control act of 2312 with one of the original Pilgrims. Their frames of reference were just too different.

“Leesa said that you want talk about astronomy.”

“Yes, I do. I am sure the political people will monopolize your time once they get instructions from home.

I thought I would get my licks in first.”

“Don’t understand.”

“Not important,” Bendagar replied with an airy wave. “Just tell me about the stars you have seen.”

“I know very little of stars and galaxies.”

“You probably know more than you think. At least, I hope that you do. Would you like to go home someday?”

“Very lot!”

“I think I may be able to find your home if you will cooperate. I would like to start with the question of how long the Broa have possessed the stargate.”

“Why?”

Bendagar repeated the explanation he had given Pavel when that worthy had first arrived aboard, and several times since. Astronomy was not the politician’s strong point, he had discovered. The concept that light-years could be equated to time was an alien one for him.

However, not for Sar-Say, he quickly discovered. When he finished, the alien shrugged in a very humanlike gesture. “Leesa ask me this once. I must tell you that I not know. I not think it help if I do know.”

“Why not?” Bendagar asked.

“Broa expand faster than light using stargate. Maybe first gravity bump on way long after near bump enter solsystem.”

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that.” The alien’s point, the scientist noted, was that as the Broa captured system after system, the limits of their domain expanded faster than one light-year per year. Thus, the borders of the Broan Empire always moved outward faster than the gravity waves produced by their star gates. Thus, if the Broa had invented star travel a million years earlier and a million light-years distant, those first gravity waves would just be reaching Earth. So would the waves from a star gate they had established four years ago in the Alpha Centauri system. In other words, he could use his idea to locate the center of the Broan domain, but not its edges. The conquerors might be much closer than anyone liked.

“Let us explore the question anyway. How long has it been since the Broa first found you Taff?”

Sar-Say’s features, which were as mobile as any human’s was, twitched in some unknown expression.

“Stories among my people of the time before Broa came. Most told by old ones to cubs very late at night and in depths of own den. Broa not like stories.”

Bendagar nodded. If you were in the business of subjugating an alien world, the first thing you would do is rob the inhabitants of their native culture. The overlords would likely consider the teaching of pre-Broan history treasonous. A Taff who wished to pass down the old traditions to his descendants would do well to keep a low profile.

“How long do those stories say that it has been?”

“Last clan leader of Taff, Uuleri, who live end of last cold era on my world.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Leesa and I work to convert Taff years to human. If accu ... accurate, Broa came to Taff 5000 years ago.”

The scientist whistled. Five thousand years ago on Earth had seen the first primitive stirrings of civilization in the Nile and the Po River valleys. Yet, the Broa had possessed interstellar travel for some period before that.

“Was the Broan government young or old in those days?”

Sar-Say imitated a human shrug. “Who can say?”

“Right. I will report what you have told me to Dieter Pavel, along with the fact that we have been overlooking the expansion of the Broan realm. Now then, tell me about your travels.”

“I not understand.”

“It is simple,” Bendagar said. “From your description of the places you have been, especially the night skies you have seen, I hope to identify some galactic landmark that we can use to establish where a particular sun lies.”

“You look for stars?”

Bendagar shook his head. “They look too much alike to the naked eye. What about other things?

Glowing clouds at night, black shapes against the band of the galaxy, other odd objects?”

“One world I visit have large cloud in night sky. Is interest?”

“I am very much interested, Sar-Say. Please continue--”

“-- Despite all attempts to shake his story, Sar-Say continues to maintain that his society spans a
million stellar systems and is under the absolute control of a race of totalitarians called the Broa.

As his command of Standard improves, he has provided his interrogators with ever more detailed
stories of atrocities committed on other species by these overlords. He recounts these horrors as
matter-of-factly as you and I would discuss the weather. Indeed, the psychologists have come to
believe that his attitude is the best proof we have that the Broa actually exist. They see an analogy
between Sar-Say’s attitude toward the Broa and that of a dog toward its master. Perhaps a better
analogy would be the way the ancient Greeks looked at their gods on Mount Olympus. If Zeus or
Hera wanted to come down from on high and play a dirty trick on some mortal, then that was
their prerogative and not to be questioned. Even when it comes to his own near death at their
hands, Sar-Say seems strangely unconcerned.

“Dr. Burrows, of the Alien Psychology Assessment Group, believes that Sar-Say’s people, the
Taff, have borne the Broan yoke for so long that they have been selectively bred into a position of
permanent servitude. Professor Vining disagrees. He maintains that Sar-Say’s attitude is merely
the rationalization of an intelligent being when faced with an unpalatable situation over which he
has no control.